


A Blade of Grass

by Lycoria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Based on Aprilflame's Middle Earth AU, Elf Keith just being damned adorable, Elf!Keith, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Human!Shiro, Knight!Shiro, M/M, Pining, elf au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8302774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycoria/pseuds/Lycoria
Summary: On the day that it happened, Keith was 103 or so, the counting had finally become tedious, and the days and nights were blending together. There, deep in the forest, was a human child choking on his last breath, dying under the weight of a Great Oak tree. Elf!Keith and Human!Shiro (Based on Aprilflame's Tolkien Sheith AU)





	1. Sprout

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sheith Tokienish-AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/234688) by Aprilflame. 



**_i_ **

 

On the day that it happened, Keith was 103 or so, the counting had finally become tedious, and the days and nights were blending together.

“A sign that you are well on your way to becoming an adult.” The elders had assured him, nodding approvingly.

It really didn’t matter to Keith anyway, age was just a number for an elf, and so once again he spent his time in the forest, wandering through green shadows of early morning. This is how he took his time away from the other elves, the prying eyes. In the lushness of the forest, he listened to the plants whisper, hushed and gentle.

But on this particular day, the stillness had been disturbed. There was a low murmur, a persistent, keening cry of a tree in need of help. Keith moved briskly forward, hoping to find the source of the mournful intoning.

Eventually the air became sharp, singing with the electricity of magic from the barrier. Keith began to run, knowing that they had caught an intruder, trespassing the sacred lands of the elves. His heart pounded in his chest, and when he finally found the origins of the cry, a stone lodged in his throat.

It was a small human, only an infant, a few years into the world. As ordained by the magic instilled in the trees, an oak had called forth lightning to strike the culprit, burning itself to death in the process. Keith ran to the tiny body, carefully brushing aside leaves and ash.

The small boy had the cold pallor of death, his blood spilled out from his right arm, caught under a smoldering branch. Next to him, the great oak continued to weep, slowly fading out of existence.

It didn’t seem right, it was just a child, Keith reasoned as he gently pulled away the hair from the boy’s face, seeing the large laceration that crossed the bridge of his nose. Shallow, ragged breaths were all he heard, surfacing over the oak’s wail, low and rumbling.

_Maybe…?_

It was a small chance, an unbelievably small hope, Keith reminded himself as he pulled the branch stretched over the human’s arm aside. Just maybe the two would be able to accept each other and live on.

With the dagger he always carried with him, he stripped away the burnt edges of the branch, revealing untouched wood on the inside. Then he took the boy’s arm, wincing as his hands were instantly slick with blood.

There was no way around it, the arm could not be salvaged and would cost the human his young life. With one swift movement he sliced the arm clean off, through the bone and muscle, and concentrated on speaking to the oak.

The forest air bristled, trunks and branches already uneasy with the events of the day, watching the death of an old friend. He made his way through the din, wading as if in water, up the creek in the storm, to finally rest on the Great Oak’s voice.

A daunting request, as simple as it may seem.

A silence,

And then the acceptance.

Keith bowed his head in thanks to the tree before he began to twist the branch, pulling out five smaller branches with effort, one eye on the little boy that laid beside him. At last he held the branch in the space where the newly severed arm once belonged and watched as the oak accepted its new home, reaching and twisting until the blood stopped and the body’s breath became even.

He sat back, gently rearranging the child until he rested in a comfortable position under the shade of a birch tree. Keith stood and gazed down as the hand morphed, like coiling vines, to find the most suitable form. He took the broken arm, still lying under the oak, and buried it beneath the roots of the oak, chanting its own death knell.

After some time, the small human finally fluttered his eyes open, the color of night, and Keith saw that they were dazed. He brought a finger to his lips, a signal to be quiet, before speaking to the boy.

“You shouldn’t have been wandering around here.” He made his voice soft, to not startle the child.

The child in turn, smiled brightly, even as the wound on his face began to clot with blood. “I just got lost, and suddenly I didn’t know where I was! Did you save me?”

“I did…,” Keith hesitated in his answering. “Does anything hurt?”

He shrugged his tiny shoulders, eyes full of wonder as he observed his surroundings, “Whoa, what happened to that tree-” He had finally pointed, and looked down at his right arm, “Whoa! Wait- What happened to my arm?”

“It had been crushed under the Great Oak. I could not save it.” He answered gently, hoping that the boy would not cry.

Instead his face glowed, “No way! This is super cool, I love it! And you saved my life, so I owe you one.”

A wry smile appeared on Keith’s face at the thought of the tiny child attempting to save him, a century-old elf. “There’s no need, I did what was best.”

“No, I still owe you! So we have to promise.” He stuck out the last finger on his newly formed right hand. “You’re supposed to use your pinky to grab mine, to seal the deal.”

As he linked his finger with the boy’s, he realized that the wood, while sturdy, had gained a certain warmness and malleability. It had gratefully accepted its new host, and the host in turn had accepted it as well.

Nearby, the Great Oak gave out its last breath and surrendered itself to the wild.

 

**_ii_ **

 

It was nearing the fall of Keith’s 103rd year, and he was beginning to realize he was entrenched in a complicated predicament.

The particular problem was currently on its tiptoes, attempting to crown him with a wreath of tiny white flowers. “How does this look Keith?”

He turned, smiling warmly at the boy before brushing his white hair of from his eyes. “It must look wonderful, Shiro.”

Shiro grinned cheekily in response, bounding off to pick more flowers. “Alright! Time to make myself one as well.”

The boy wasn’t supposed to come back. A miscalculation on his own part, and a serious one with consequences. Now that Shiro had gained an arm of oak, he was free to wander the elven forests, unimpeded by the magical forces put into place.

“Those humans have short lives, but great tenacity. They are like flames that burn themselves out in an instant.” An Elder had explained to Keith once, as to why they had to put such barriers into their forest. “In only the last few centuries, we have seen them grow and learn exponentially. We must take caution to protect what is ours.”

Keith nervously ran his fingers through the blossoms encircling his head, heaving a heavy sigh. No matter, Shiro was only 5, so perhaps he could worry about such things later.

“I’ll be 6 in a month!” He would have shouted indignantly if he heard Keith’s thoughts.

He felt a gentle tug at the ends of his hair, breaking him from his reverie. Shiro had returned, tangling his fingers into strands of jet black with a marveling look on his features. “Is there something you want to ask about, Shiro?”  
He shook his head. “No, I just think that your hair’s so long… and so pretty!”

“Is that so.” Keith’s face flushed, unexpecting the compliment. He carefully lifted Shiro and placed him into his lap, the boy squirmed for a bit and then smiled once again.

“I think it’s very dark and shiny, it looks pretty, and Keith is pretty too…” Shiro mumbled the end of his sentence, his words barely above a whisper and painfully endearing.

The elf ran a hand through Shiro’s hair, silence filling the forest air. “You know, this color isn’t very common for elves.”

“Really?”

“Yes, to be honest, many see black hair as an ill omen.” Keith stared off for a moment, finding the right words to say as he thought of the rest of his race, with their golden white hair. “But when they found that I could speak to the forest, the others decided to be kind to me.”

The Elders, of course. He couldn’t say much about the rest of the elves.

“And your powers are why you saved me!” The boy responded.

“Yes… that's right…,” He murmured in reply, a frown settling on his features as a thought that never occurred to him appeared. “Are your parents worried about you playing in the forest all day?”

Shiro went still in his lap, and Keith worried that he had said something the little boy wouldn’t like to share. Instead he scratched at the healing scar across his face, looking a bit sheepish. “I don’t have anyone like that…”

Oh.

Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s shoulders, holding him closer to his body. He took the wreath from his head and placed it on the young boy’s, taking a moment to adjust it before speaking.

“You’re just like me, then.”

 

**_iii_ **

 

“It seems that the humans have once again expanded their borders.” One flaxen haired elf stated, kneeling before the Elders.

It was a cool night only a few months after Keith’s 105th birthday. Not like Keith was counting, but Shiro had insisted, for the sake of human activities that involved singing around a pastry of some sort and making wishes. Though unneeded, there was a certain novelty to it, the idea that humans numbered their years so carefully. Shiro had made Keith promise to celebrate his day later in the year.

He stood beside the scout elf giving her report, ready to also give his own as soon as the elders inquired.

“What about you, Keith?” They finally asked, speaking from their tall, noble chairs. “Has the forest been silent? Any sign of the humans?”

Keith stepped forward and kneeled before them, anxiously fixing the woven wreath of birch branches in his hair, a very lovely gift from a very human child.

“Nothing, my Elders.” Maybe he was numb to it by now, but the words almost seemed like a truth to him. Shiro wasn’t one of the humans they sought, so there was no need to speak of the boy. It had been years since that fateful day, and despite everything, Shiro had become living proof to Keith that not all humans were a threat.

The Elders seemed to deliberate for a few moments before they collectively nodded, signalling the end of the meeting. Keith stood and began to exit the meeting hall before he felt the hand of an elder resting on his arm, halting him.

“That is a wonderful adornment around your head.” He realized that it was one of the oldest Elders, one with a white beard so long it nearly brushed across the ground. “May I ask if that is a present from…?”

Keith’s face reddened, “Oh no! Nothing of the sort, just something I made myself while in the forests…”

“I see…, “ He seemed disappointed. “Would you like me to introduce you to a lovely elven girl? You are about the right age to wed.”

In response, he felt himself blush with increased intensity, a sense of humiliation welling up in his chest. “I know that I don’t seem to get along with anyone else, but I certainly don’t need the help.”

The words came out more biting than expected, his facial expression sullen. It was difficult, knowing that the Elders doted on him for his abilities, yet many of the other elves avoided him as if a curse. Keith was happy being alone, and it mattered little if he managed to produce an heir.

“My apologies, Keith, I didn’t mean to prod.” For what it was worth, the Elder seemed woefully apologetic, only adding to the list of Keith’s sins. He attempted a forced smile before turning to leave, his cheeks still burning from the encounter.

Outside in the dim starlight, the night air fresh and soothing, a slight wind playing through his dark hair. Keith took the moment to take a breath and unwind himself before starting down the path, walking deeper and deeper into the forest.

At the clearing, under the moon, was a familiar figure, albeit a tiny one.  
  
“Welcome back!” Shiro said, with a small wave.

Keith smiled at the familiar greeting, feeling as if he was finally home. “Yes, I’m back.”

 

**_iv_ **

 

In the winter of Keith’s 109th year, when the air was bitingly cold and crisp, he found a familiar pair of footprints in the largely unmarked snow, leading him to Shiro.

“Keith, you’re here early.” The boy lowered his bow and arrow, a gift from the elf himself, and gave a small smile.

“Welcome back,” He answered in the way that was habitual to them, his purple eyes warmed at the sight of the human.

The trees were stripped bare of their leaves, becoming black, sharp stretches of branches, giving the pair a clear view of the freezing blue sky overhead. Most of the trees had gone into their deep sleep, and the whispers of the wilds was characteristically quiet for the season.

Louder and more clearly now were the intermingling of their breaths, puffs of white escaping from their lips as they greeted each other.

Keith pulled aside the long, heavy braid of hair to take his own bow off his back. Now that Shiro had entered the double digits in his human lifespan, Keith had taken to mentoring him in basic hunting skills. Their meetings had become much more conversational and less about playing in the fields.

To him, it was like closing his eyes for just a moment, only to open them to see that Shiro had grown older, stronger. It seemed that daily, he had watched a small, helpless child grow into a self assured one, on the cusp of his adolescent years. He was now at about shoulder height to Keith, with no signs of stopping any time soon.

They spent the bright early morning training his archery, a skill he had respectfully asked to be taught.

“For the other kids in the orphanage,” He had explained offhandedly, as if it was obvious, “We don’t have much to eat, there’s too many mouths to feed. I hope I can catch small rabbits and things so that the littlest ones don’t have to go hungry.”

If that was the case, Keith had said, why not I just give you some of the supplies that the elves have on hand?

Shiro had shook his head, hands balling into fists. “The reason why you protect yourselves is because you’re worried about humans taking resources, right? I need to learn how to earn this myself.”

He had only nodded slowly in agreement, finding that Shiro was more right than he would like to admit. The boy had always been mature beyond his years, but that aspect of his personality only grew more and more pronounced as the years passed.

On Shiro’s 12th birthday, Keith had gifted him a bow made of oak with matching arrows, as was tradition for human birthdays. The boy had taken to it gleefully, making the arrows sing in a way that Keith could never manage. Perhaps it was the strength of his oak arm, harmonizing with the bow as he took aim.

Keith himself was a celebrated marksman, even begrudgingly by the elves with light-colored hair. Even still, it only seemed natural to him, with the time he spent in the forests, there really wasn’t much else better to do but to train his archery. Now that Shiro had his own bow and arrow, they took to practicing together, with Keith stopping every so often to give suggestions in hopes to refine Shiro’s skills.

They had paused for lunch, sipping on the still hot tea from Keith’s cannister imbibed with elven magic. On the fire was a snowshoe hare that Shiro had proudly caught a few hours prior.

It wasn’t like Keith hadn’t noticed, but Shiro had been unusually quiet, running his hands through hair and twisting the white forelock in the usual fashion when he wanted to say something. Still Keith didn’t ask, waiting for Shiro to speak up like he always did.

The tea cupped in Shiro’s hands had almost gone cold before he finally spoke up, his voice barely above a murmur. “Keith… I just want to let you know that I’m leaving.”

He tried to hide the fact that he suddenly felt the cold of the air fill his lungs, piercing his insides with icicles. “Leaving… To where?” Keith managed to respond.

Shiro seemed strangely preoccupied with digging his foot into a nearby snowdrift, avoiding the wide-eyed gaze of the elf. Above them, a lone bird sounded, its call echoing into the winter wind.

“They’ve- I guess the ‘Humans’ to you, decided that the hostilities with the elves has gotten to be too much. They want to make an army to protect the borders.”

“Will you be safe?” Keith found himself blurting out the words, surprised that there was no tremor in his voice. Shiro looked equally startled in return, his brows furrowed in confusion.

The young boy opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but not finding the words for a moment. “I’ll be training to be a soldier, but why are you worried about my safety? Our races are on the brink of a war.”

“And why does that matter above your safety?”

“Because-!” Shiro exclaimed, exasperated, one hand clenched into a fist in his hair. “Because we’re supposed to be enemies. I didn’t- I don’t know if things will be the same when I come back, or if I can come back at all.”

Keith said nothing, twisting his hands tightly together to stop them from shaking, eyes boring holes into the rabbit in the fire, willing it to finish cooking faster.

Beside him, the human’s mouth had pressed into a thin line, determined. “Keith… that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I want us to be friends still, I want us-”

Quickly, Shiro took Keith’s hand into his, the warm wood pressing against winter-cold fingers. “I promised I’d protect you, because I owed you.”

“Shiro…,” Keith breathed with a bitter laugh, “You don’t have to-”

“No,” He interjected, eyes dark and earnest. “I don’t want to fight. I don’t like the idea of fighting. But if it means I can learn how to protect you, then I will.”

It was a strange sight, to see the usually jovial young boy persist on something so serious, a farewell heavy with words caught in Keith’s throat.

“Alright then.” The elf eventually said with shivering lips, pointed ears red from the wind. He lifted a single, pale pinky finger into the air. “If you must insist, then I think this would call on a pinky promise.”

 

**_v_ **

 

On the morning of Keith’s 113th birthday, he rose from his bed and shrugged on a leather coat, a precautionary measure that all the elves in the scouting party now wore. He tied his hair into a loose braid and pushed it over his shoulder, taking his bow and arrow with him before starting on the long walk into the dense forest.

It was a calm spring morning, the trees and the lush grass encircling their roots were busily humming, stretching their newly formed green leaves into the air. Keith took his usual seat amongst the solid trunks of wood, listening to their encouraging chatter to each other, an invitation to grow.

The sights and sounds were familiar, but also strangely alienating. Without a particular human beside him, cooing at every brightly colored flower bud that he found, the spring morning felt distantly empty. He laid under the shade of a maple tree, allowing an old ache to fill his lungs.

Perhaps he had been infected, Keith had reasoned to himself. He had only shared a mere fraction of his lengthy lifespan with the human, an infinitesimal amount of time with Shiro, watched him grow into young boy, looked after him like a brother.

Yet he had to admit to himself that the years that he had lived, once flying by like seconds, had slowed to a crawl, each morning he woke with hoping, and each night he went to bed in expectation that just maybe, maybe tomorrow would be the day he was greeted, welcomed back into the shade of the oak trees.

Most days he tried his best not to think about it.

It was odd to want to see Shiro again. Knowing that the next time they saw each other, it could very well be on opposite sides of a tension ready to burst.

But they had pinky promised.

And so the the years stretched on, Shiro confessing that he had no idea when he would be back or where exactly they would meet. Even still, on the morning before he left, 3 years ago on a spring day similar to this one, he had sworn he would come back.

A tiny boy at Keith’s shoulder-height, tensely gripping his bow and arrow, had sworn they would see each other again.

Keith really should learn not to take stock in the promises of little human boys, the nature of humans already as impermanent as they were.

He realized that he wanted something sweet to eat, maybe a pastry of some sort. He thought to buy one on the way back home while in town.

It was his birthday, after all.

 

**_vi_ **

 

“There’s been increased activity at the border between the humans and our forests. We would like you to scout further to see the extent of their trespassing.”

Or that was what Keith was told, but this afternoon felt like nothing in particular, unmarked from the other days he had been experiencing in his 117th year, which was relatively peaceful with only the odd human sighting here or there. As usual, the trees were softly humming, unperturbed by the conflict between races that had grown to a tension point over the last four years.

In the previous fall, a human outpost had been established insultingly close to the sacred forests, but still within boundaries. The Elders seethed with contempt at this bold move, but remained that there was nothing to do but watch. Since then, the other elven scouts had been ordered to keep a close watch, observe the ongoings of the outpost.

Today, as requested, he ventured further into the thicket than routine, his ears gradually picking up the noise of chatter unlike what he normally heard. The trees were not angry or distressed in the least, but there was an air of expectation in the green, certainly unusual. Keith drew his bow, readying it in case of any trouble.

Perhaps it was a doe that had just recently given birth, or maybe the first sprouts of newly formed trees have finally broke ground, any number of things could have been the source. Even so, Keith knew, that the buzz in the air was unlike those other times.

His nose picked up the smell before his eyes spotted it, the smell and sight of smoke winding through the treetops. Keith drew an arrow from his quiver before throwing his cloth hood tight over his head, concealing himself behind the trunk of a beech tree. His heart fluttered like a bird in a cage, unsure as to how he should proceed. Today was like any other. This wasn’t part of that.

From around the tree, he could see a large human figure tend to his fire, stoking it with another fallen beech branch. Keith bit his lip, knowing instantly that he would easily be overwhelmed by the human’s strength if he did not initiate the attack. No choice but to strike when he had the chance, the human seemingly alone. Steadying his breath, he stepped silently out from behind the tree, bow taut and ready to unleash an arrow.

“Halt.” He spoke in a surprisingly clear voice, “You have trespassed into sacred Elven land, human. You must come with me to be seen before the Elder council.”

The human turned, black eyes wide as he drew his hands up in a stance of surrender. With a darting glance, Keith didn’t fail to notice the shock of white hair, an old scar slashed across the bridge of his nose.

It couldn’t be.

“Keith?”

The human’s voice was low, ladened with surprise. Keith only drew his bow tighter, fingers shaking as he took aim. Still, in disbelief, a hope that made his voice tremble, he answered.

“Shiro?”

“It’s me. Shiro.” The stranger responded, his voice now holding a note of excitement, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He held his hands in place regardless, watching the point of the arrow directed at his heart.

Keith couldn’t find a reason to lower his weapon, glaring skeptically at the man before him. He was nothing like Shiro in stature, at least a head taller than himself, sturdier and clearly stronger than the skinny, orphaned boy he had known.

The human reached for his other hand slowly, black steadily gazing back at purple. “If you’ll allow me, I prove it to you.”

Keith said nothing, but made no move to disagree as the man slipped the leather glove off of his right arm, twisting the hand in different directions to reveal that it was completely made of oak. “It’s grown a bit with me, but it’s the same one.”

“How…?” Keith breathed as his grip on his bow loosened, arrow falling from his fingertips. “Shiro, I can’t believe…”

Shiro laughed, a rumble in his chest. “I know. It’s been seven years. I’m sure that was nothing to you but-”

“I’ve been waiting.” Keith said as he pulled the hood from his head, still feeling a bit sheepish as he knit his brows together. “We promised, and so I’d been hoping… to see you again.”

Without warning, he felt arms encircle him at the waist, face buried into the crook of his neck. “Shi-Shiro!” Keith exclaimed, feeling his face flush as the arms tightened.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just…” He could hear Shiro’s voice so closely to his ear, deep and tender as he spoke, but so unbearably light. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Slowly, ever so softly, Keith raised his arms to the broad plain of Shiro’s back, feeling the warmth emanating from his body as his fingers clutched at his shirt. “Shiro… I’ve missed you.”

The elf felt the human’s breath hitch before he nuzzled against his shoulder again, much to his embarrassment. “I’ve missed you as well.” He finally said, inhaling before he replied.

Gently, Shiro’s arms moved upwards to his shoulders, pushing himself back to reward Keith with a crooked grin. “I’m back, Keith.”

The light of Keith’s smile reached his eyes, despite the fact that he knew his blush must have already reached the tips of his ears.

“Welcome back, Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this fic. 
> 
> I was incredibly inspired by Aprilflame's fanart series where Keith is an Elf and Shiro is his knight in Middle Earth, so I was very very happy that she allowed me to write a fanfic loosely based on her ideas. Though my spin on it becomes a lot more centralized around a human/elf conflict, her story followed much more after Tolkien's stories, so they've become two distinctly different works. 
> 
> Regardless, thanks for reading part one, and part two will be out soon! (There might be a chance of me writing more spin-offs, but who knows.) 
> 
> P.S. Just in case anyone's concerned, there is absolutely nothing romantic going on between the two of them in this first part at least... but look forward to it next time~


	2. Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it took a bit, but I finally finished the second and final part of this fic! Thank you so much for your patience this entire time, I hope you all enjoy this particularly long update.

**_vii_ **

 

So they talked, both desperate to pull on the years they had missed, bring them back to the surface, make up for lost time.

As Shiro explained it, he had requested to be moved to the newly made outpost, in hopes of being able to deter humans from trying to enter the enchanted forest.

“For their sakes, because I know that they’re not safe for humans.” He said with a wry smile, “But also because I knew you would still be there.”

Keith tried to quell strange swell of happiness in his chest at that comment, turning away from him to hide his face. “What I don’t get…” He said, changing the subject, “Is how you grew up so quickly.”

“Keith…” Shiro said with a chuckle, finger scratching at his scar, reminiscent of his old habit, “I’m 19 now.”

“19. And?” The elf looked at him questioningly, mouth formed into a doubtful frown.

“In human years, that’s an adult.” He murmured, carefully taking Keith’s hand into his.

“But, you’re _only_ 19!” Keith sputtered, determinedly ignoring the way his heart leapt at Shiro’s touch. “When I was 19, I was much smaller than you, and certainly less…”

His words failed to come out of his mouth, ones describing just how sculpted Shiro’s muscles had become.

Keith didn’t like this new Shiro one bit.

“That’s for your case as an elf, but as a human, I’m a year into being an adult. An adult just like you.” Shiro leaned in closer, the same amicable smile stretched on his features, unsuspecting of the way Keith’s heart was hammering away.

“But, unfortunately…” Shiro’s eyes looked downward, an air of seriousness coming upon him that wasn’t there before. “As much as I enjoy seeing you again, we do have to talk about the more… difficult things.”

“True…” Keith nodded knowingly. It wasn’t something he naturally wanted to discuss, the bubbling conflict between their two races. If Keith had his way, to be honest, he would turn away from the whole thing all together. While the rest of the elves were on edge, worried about their land and resources taken, he couldn’t help but feel that the matter didn’t concern him.

Though he lived amongst them, he felt nothing like the others at all.

“Even now, I feel the same way as I did then.” Shiro lifted the pale elven hand in his own and turned it over, a warm wooden thumb stroking the palm. “I learned to fight because of you.”

He continued onward, his voice bright and sharp. “I can’t say I agree with the others and their beliefs, that they have to scramble to find footing in this world, and so they need to take what they can from others.”

“I have no such noble thoughts like yours, or even an opinion.” Keith replied, eyelashes fluttering as he felt his confession spill from his mouth. “Over a hundred years in this lifetime, and I’ve only felt like an outsider.”

Gently, and without hesitation, Shiro took Keith’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. “Once again, we’re the same.”

The elf felt his breath leave his body, color creeping onto his cheeks and tinting his ears.

Shiro’s eyes were the same as all those years ago, in the winter time when he told Keith that he had to leave. They were dark and earnest, gazing at him and nothing else.

“I swore I’d protect you, that I owed you my life.” As Shiro whispered, Keith felt the words reverberate in his body, his forehead tingling where it touched the human’s. “That hasn’t changed, Keith. I’ll protect you, even now.”

Keith’s fingers traced his arms, sliding upwards to cup Shiro’s hands in his.

“Of course. We made a promise.”

 

**_viii_ **

 

It was the height of summer in Keith’s 117th year, one turning out to be a dizzyingly eventful year both for him and the human-elven conflict. In the south, far from the Elven capital city, along the border of human territory, several skirmishes occurred, with neither the clear winner. The Elders had taken precautionary measures to protect the capital, but none wanted to announce war on the other race.

“We must admit, that the humans have been clever and resourceful in their ways. Even still, we must not concede and give them our rightful land.”

As Shiro promised, he made sure that none of his subordinates wandered too far into the forest, directing them to spend their time resource collecting and training. Through his guidance, the elven capital of the north lived in relative ease, the ongoing battle nothing but a whisper at the back of their minds.

“It’s about land, is it not?” Keith asked one day as they sat below the shade of an oak tree at sunset. “The humans want more land to expand, and we don’t want to give it to them.”

Shiro nodded, flipping through another page of his book as the elf peered at the foreign squiggles. “So the other humans are resulting to cowardly ways, stealing supplies wherever they can, and it results in skirmishes.”  

“I don’t understand why we can’t just give them the land.” Keith mused in response, face sullen and pensive. “That would solve everyone’s problems, would it not?”

“It’s about pride on either side, when it comes down to it.” The young man looked up from his book and at Keith, a crooked smile on his lips. “If you and I were in charge, I’m sure this would have ended before it even began.”

Shiro extended his right arm, trying to take Keith’s hand into his, and for the fourth time that day, Keith flinched, pulling his hand quickly back.

Lately, whenever Shiro touched him, he could feel it like lines of fire, his heart ready to burst.

Maybe he was sick.

A little surprised and disappointed, Shiro’s eyes widened, studying carefully the elf’s face as his eyebrows furrowed together in an impressive frown.   

“Is there something wrong?” He tried to ask, as mildly as he could.

Keith turned away, shoulders hunched and ears red. “I think… I might be sick. I don’t want to infect you.”

Shiro quickly shut his book with a snap, giving the elf a once over. “You don’t look sick. Do elves get sick often?”

“Not until the end of our lives, usually.” Keith responded in a small voice, “Maybe this is just something new and unusual.”

Or maybe he was going to die on the spot, a combination of the illness and embarrassment.

“What are the symptoms like?”

He could feel the weight of the human’s gaze on him, onyx eyes concerned, overwhelming him once again. “I just… it seems so foolish to explain to you…”

“Why?”

“Because it seems like the symptoms are whenever I touch a human.”

“A human?” Shiro’s head tilted to one side, eyebrows raised. “Have you met any other humans besides me?”

“N-no... Admittedly I’ve only ever met you… But it would be silly to say that I’m sick because of you, wouldn’t it-” As Keith spoke, he gradually turned his head back at Shiro, yelping and cutting off his sentence when he realized that he was much closer than he initially anticipated.

“What are your symptoms, then?” Shiro’s voice was low, face close to his own as he stared openly at the elf. “Why don’t you tell me?”

In close proximity of Shiro’s face, Keith could only take in shallow breaths, heart attempting to escape his body. “W-well… I can’t stop this uncontrollable redness on my cheeks whenever I’m with you…”

“And…?” Shiro took the opportunity to finally hold Keith’s hand, a pleased grin on his face.

“My heart… is beating much too fast, as if I’ve been running or hunting just moments before.”

“Is there anything else?” Now his other arm had slipped around Keith’s waist, pulling him closer.

“I- I don’t know what else.” Keith cried, exasperated. “It’s simply all too much.”

Shiro’s arm moved upwards, tracing Keith’s back, enjoying the way he shivered against him. “I think I can make a diagnosis.”

“Really?” He perked up instantly, purple eyes bright and hopeful. “Did your training regimen also include apothecary studies?”

“Not really.” Shiro laughed as Keith seemed to wilt with disappointment. “But I’m an expert with this particular issue.”

“What is it then…?” The elf was looking at him expectantly, hair tickling Shiro’s fingers as he rubbed slow circles on the small of Keith’s back.

“Have you ever thought that-” Shiro leaned into Keith’s ear, as if whispering a secret. “-it might be love?”

For a moment, Keith’s mind drew a blank, the words not registering, rolling around as he desperately tried to decipher the meanings, the code he was given.

And then it clicked.

“Love?!” He yelped as he struggled to pull away from Shiro, his strong arms holding him in place. “What could that even mean? _Love_?”

The human only continued to grin cheekily at him, Keith sure that his entire body had flushed crimson from the tips of his ears down to his pinky toes. “I’m sure you know the meaning of the word.” Shiro teased as Keith scowled at him. “But I have to say, what you’re feeling is what I always feel when I’m around you.”

Oh.

“What do you mean? Always?”

“Your illness, called love, affection. I feel it for you always.” Shiro said without missing a beat.

Oh _no._

It was all Keith could do to avert his eyes, fighting to find the words to defuse the situation as he clutched at his chest with one hand, his heart refusing to lessen its tempo. “How could we possibly confirm that this is even the same thing?”

He was expecting if not a good-humored chuckle, for at least a serious reply. Instead Keith only heard silence from Shiro, the murmur of the woods filling his ears once again. Shyly, he raised his eyes back towards the human. “Shiro… did I say something wrong?”

The human’s mouth was open, as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words to say it. Shiro took a lock of Keith’s hair and looped it on his finger, twirling it with a gaze full of fascination.

“There’s a way of confirming… would you like to try it?”

There was a little, knowing smile on Shiro’s face now, and Keith could recognize it as the expression he wore when he knew he would be able to let loose an arrow on his target. The look he had when he knew he had caught his prey.

Wordlessly, Keith began to sweat.

“What would… that entail?” He questioned in a shaky voice, betraying his fear.

Shiro shrugged, all boyish charm with a lopsided grin, as if he had no idea about the terror he was inflicting on the elf. “Just a little human activity. We’ll know right away if we’re talking about the same thing.”

He hesitated. He had enjoyed all the previous human activities that Shiro had introduced to him. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad after all. Keith furrowed his eyebrows, mustering the courage. “Alright then. Let’s give it a try.”

“Really? Do you trust me?” His tone was breathy, almost surprised.  

The inquiry made Keith stop for a moment. Did he trust Shiro? Not necessarily the way he was now, with the look he was giving sending tingling sensations down the tips of his fingers. But in the end, he did. He knew he did. Maybe even foolishly so.

“I do trust you, Shiro.”

“Alright then.” Shiro brought a hand under Keith’s chin, his thumb gently swiping his bottom lip. He struggled to stay still, feeling the way that his lip burned at the touch, his thoughts reeling.

“W-was that it-”

“No.” He interrupted, and he tipped Keith’s chin upwards, bringing their mouths together and sealing the space between them.

It was like his entire body had ignited, a flame blooming in his chest as he felt the way Shiro’s lips moved against his own, his arm wrapped securely around his waist, like an anchor in treacherous seas. Keith found himself grasping at the front of Shiro’s shirt, fingers digging into the fabric and the human pushed them closer together, as if he wanted them to meld completely together. Still, Shiro kissed him like a man in a drought that had just found water, taking the breath from Keith’s lungs.

As suddenly as it began, it ended. Shiro pulling back to look at Keith, hand caressing his cheek fondly as he gasped for breath, face flushed and dizzy. “How was that?”

“That...that-” Keith broke to take a heaving breath, taking a moment to think. Shiro could feel that the fingers on his shirt tightened, the elf turning his head to avoid his gaze a little timidly. “I don’t know… maybe we need to try again…?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Was all Shiro said before he tangled his fingers into Keith’s hair, pulling them together once again.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Keith set out to head back into town, the moon was bright in the sky and his head with spinning with equally dazzling stars. Self-consciously he rubbed at his mouth, still throbbing from the way Shiro nibbled on his lip before sucking on it in what seemed to be an attempt to soothe, only to fail and draw out increasingly heady exhales from the elf.

As expected, residential hall he lived in with many other young elves was quiet, many had gone asleep or back into their rooms. He walked swiftly to his room, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Where have you been, Keith?”

Keith turned, seeing two elves at the end of the hall, dimly lit to encourage sleep. One had her blonde hair tied up into a bun, the other with his coveted silvery hair in a loose ponytail, still shimmering in the darkened hall. He couldn’t remember their names, never could remember their names. They didn’t ask out of concern, but trouble.

He chose to ignore them and continued walking to his room, hoping to lock it and rid himself of the two.

Keith felt a hand roughly take his upper arm, slamming him against the wall. It was the blonde one, her face filled with the cold, calculating rage that so many elves were gifted with. “Don’t lie to us. We followed you. You’re a human sympathizer.”

“Then there was no point in asking me in the first place, was there?”

That earned a hard punch to his right cheek. Keith winced, dazed and surprised. Despite his difficult position in the community, none had resorted to violence. “You don’t deny? That you’re in bed with the humans.”

He himself did not possess an icy, graceful anger. Rather he housed an explosive one, an uncontrollable fury that acted without his consent. Twisting the elf’s arm until she spun around, he gave her a hard kick onto her back, veins still singing with fire even while she sprawled on the ground.

Keith could hear the other elf’s cry of dismay, and down the hall a door had opened just a crack at the commotion.

“The elders always favored you in everything.” He could hear her mutter as she propped herself up on the floor, nursing her arm. “But in the end you’re no better than the humans.”

The words didn’t sting him, surprisingly he felt nothing as he looked at the two pairs of eyes glaring, hiding their fear. “The elders never favored me.” He answered evenly. “They favored what I could do.”

Keith watched as the silver haired one hissed at him. “It won’t make a difference after we report you.”

He couldn’t bring himself to reply; instead he turned and left.

 

**_ix_ **

 

“What are you going to do, Keith?”

The next morning, when he explained the altercation he had the night before, Shiro appeared more worried than he himself could feel. Inside of him was the steady hand of resignation, the unbroken surface of a frozen lake where all his fears laid below.

“I don’t know.” He answered simply, his arm looped around Shiro’s. “Even when they tried to insult me by calling me human, I wasn’t hurt. It only made me realize just how truly foreign and other I was.”

Shiro pulled him in closer, tucking Keith’s head under his chin.

“What if we left?”

It was a quiet inquiry, so soft it could have easily been lost in the murmur of the woods. Even so, the words broke over him like waves, and Keith jerked away, startled. “What do you mean? Leaving?”

“You and I.” Shiro continued in that same voice, low and contemplating, “We’ve never fit here, have we? This conflict has never felt like it was fully ours.”

“And so we run like cowards?” Something about Shiro’s suggestion was irritating, turning tail and fleeing.

The human shook his head. “No, what I’m trying to say is, what are we fighting exactly? What are we fighting for?”

“Because, because the humans want to expand their territory, and the elves don’t want to give them any.”

“That’s what they’re fighting for.” His lips were a thin line as he looked downwards to his arm of oak. “When you gave me this, when you gave me those days spent with you in my childhood, I realized it changed me.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have then, Keith found himself thinking, though the notion pained him. Shiro sighed, reading his thoughts. “I don’t mean to say you made a mistake. I would have died, and you saved me, I can never regret that.”

“Then what are you trying to say?” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting.

“We don’t belong here, like you’ve always said and felt. We don’t belong, and so maybe it’s time for us to move on.”

 

* * *

 

 

They planned to meet the following night, Keith packing away his sparse possessions into his bag. He tied his hair expertly into braid and looked at himself for one last time in the mirror. Heart thrumming like a trapped bird in his chest, he had to wonder why he was so terrified. While it was not many, he had heard of other elves that had left their cities to live elsewhere, it wasn’t forbidden. Keith himself had thought of the option many times before, but he knew now that what he did wasn’t simply moving, it was deserting his kind in the midst of a war.

He turned from his reflection and grabbed his jacket, throwing his hood over his head. When he turned the knob of his door, he did it quietly and slowly, in the hopes that no one would notice as he stole out into the darkened hallway.

Keith didn’t allow himself one last look at his room, he couldn’t afford it.

When he reached the edge of town, it was draped in a thick blanket of the particular silence that comes with the night. It had been devoid of any signs of activity or life, and it made Keith almost convince himself that somehow, all the other elves had left as well.

There stood the gate between the city and the forest, just a few paces away, and so he stopped at looked at the familiar sight of it one last time.

“So you’ve decided?”

Dread washed over him at the sound of the voice, cutting through the air like an unexpected knife. Slowly he turned, hand reaching for his bow in case of a fight.

Keith’s hand dropped at the sight of the other elf, it was the elder with a beard long enough to touch the ground, the one that had inquired about the headdress he had worn all those years ago. He had never seen the elder outside of his ceremonial clothing, and so he looked incredibly small, even fragile as he spoke. “Elynn warned me this might happen.”

“Who?”

The wrinkles around the elder’s eyes bunched in a strangely timed smile. “The young lady you had a dispute with two nights ago.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Keith could feel heat gradually creep onto his face, he had already been vulnerable before the elder, terrified even. This mistake could very well cost his life.

“This only returns me to my original question, Keith.” He saw as the elf laced his fingers together, the amusement now gone from his eyes. “Have you decided to leave?”

In the quiet, he could hear the woods behind him bristle in anticipation of his answer. Though it was simple, Keith found it lodged in his throat, admitting it would only make his betrayal that more real. Still, he thought of Shiro standing at the clearing, waiting for him.

“I, I have.” He stammered quickly, moving onto his next sentence, “There was never a right time to leave, but I can no longer stay.”

As the words left his mouth, Keith braced himself, accepting that he may have to commit an unforgivable crime and injure an elder. There before him the elder stood, thin hands remained clasped together.

“You were always different from the rest of us, Keith.” His voice was barely a wisp, so small Keith had to strain to hear the words. “I cannot stop you if that’s your answer.”

“You can’t?” Shock, then relief bloomed in his chest. “But why?”

“I don’t suspect your aim is to run and aid the humans, is it not?”  Keith shook his head fiercely, long braid whipping about. There again was the surprising humor the elder possessed as he chuckled at Keith’s response. “I never thought so, despite what the younger elves thought. No one could ever tell you what to do… Though, there is another question I must ask.”

Of course there was a catch, Keith thought bitterly to himself, tersely nodding to the elder.

“Do you intend to spend your life with the human boy?”

The question was innocuous in itself. If Keith had a mother, he could imagine her asking the same question in the same tone, one of curiosity and veiled concern, but the weight and the extent of knowledge the elder must have on Keith blurred his vision in fear.

“I cannot stop you.” The elder repeated, an attempt to assure him. “I only wish to warn you.”

“Warn me?” Finally Keith found his words, realized his hands had been gripped into fists.

“By the time you reach full adulthood Keith, I fear that the human will be gone. Even still, will you throw your life here away for him?”

“Gone?” What the elder had said to him then echoed hollow in Keith.

“What I mean to say is… he will have passed. The lifespan that of a human is incompatible to an elf. Will you go, fully accepting this fact?”

“Yes.” He replied hurriedly, his affirmation tumbling out like a stone. Of course he had accepted this fact. Everyone knew this about humans. What did it matter? “Yes I accept this, I’ve always known that about Shiro, always-”

Yet the look on the elder’s face remained unchanged, his hands together, and it irritated Keith. “Elder, why do you even care? Would it not be better if all the humans died? So that we could keep our land-”

“When you have lived a life as long as mine, you begin to understand its weight. Even the war with the humans is ephemeral, even myself, as is with everything on this earth. Do you still, knowing this, want to go?”  The elder held out a hand, as if wanting Keith to take it, a last chance to return to the life he once knew. “I have known, and I have seen. An elf that chooses a human, and their suffering when that journey ends is always too great to bear. You will not be the first Keith, nor will you be the last.”

As the elder spoke, Keith could feel something in him open up, greedily swallow the words, and lock tightly shut. Then it gently sank to the bottom of a vast ocean, lost to the depths. At the forefront of everything was a single burning desire, like a small but stubborn flame, his want to be with Shiro, his selfish want to be with him until the end, whatever it may be.

“Even still.” His bottom lip shook, but his eyes were set with determination.

The elder gave a weak smile, his hands now at his sides. “Then this is goodbye, Keith.”

“Goodbye, Elder.” Keith heard himself say to the strangely frail figure of the elder as he turned and walked back into the darkened town. It seemed like it only took a moment, but the moment stretched on forever, until the long, silvery hair of the elder was out of sight.

When Keith was sure that he was gone, he broke into a sprint past the gate and into the forest.

Only when he saw Shiro there in the clearing could he find stillness in the discord that were his thoughts.

 

**_x_ **

 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Shiro said one morning in the warm spring of Keith’s 123rd year. As he stirred from their bed and brushed back the tangled mass that was his hair, he felt Shiro’s fingers touch his own, and so he grasped them.

The bright sun streamed in from the latticed window above him and he fought the urge to ball back into the blanket. Over the years Keith had learned he was wholly terrible with mornings, and naturally, Shiro was brilliant with them.

Five years ago, they had immediately made their way to the west past a formidable mountain range, with stories Shiro had heard of towns there where species of all kinds intermingled harmoniously. It was a shot in the dark, the two of them knew, yet they also had nowhere else to turn to, they journeyed to the fabled port city of the west.

“You can’t keep this up, you know.” Keith heard Shiro murmur as he felt him brush the hair out of his face. Keith fought the urge to open his eyes, wanting to doze in Shiro’s touch for as long as he could.

When they arrived, it was a curious place, where the winters were never hard and the harvest was always plentiful. Heaven, Keith would have thought if he believed in such things, so utopia was what he settled for. The town’s informal leader of sorts, the White Witch Allura, had welcomed them with open arms, despite being defectors.

“I suspect that the war will be over soon enough,” She had said with a secretive smile and a gentle voice, “So it wouldn’t matter anyways.”

As Allura had predicted, as with all of her predictions, the war ended not long after their arrival, before they could completely call the the town home. It felt like barely a blink of an eye for Keith, and he suspected that most other elves would have agreed.

In the end the elves decided to allow the humans the land they desired for expansion, provided they pay a certain amount in money or goods monthly. Both sides, refusing to prolong the fight and bring about more bloodshed, signed on those terms.

So Keith and Shiro found a cottage at the edge of town, near the evergreen trees so that he felt free to communicate with the new forests. On weekdays, Shiro would travel into the market to provide consultation to merchants and traders looking to expand their profits. Keith took to herbology and became something of a local doctor, and so the years flew by, the two content and at peace.

“Lance is only going to bug you more if you don’t get up now.” Shiro huffed good-naturedly.

That managed to stir Keith, sitting up with furrowed brows. “I didn’t know he was coming over today.” Maybe he felt just a little less content on days when the fisherman came by.

“That he is,” Shiro hummed as he watched Keith slip out of his night shirt. “Hunk as well, and maybe even Allura.”

Keith shoved his foot into a leather boot, already imagining the pinched up expression of the lanky human and his baker husband off to the side, hands out in an effort to console. “I didn’t realize we were going to have a party today.”

“Did you not want one?” Shiro inquired, leaning against the dresser.

“It’s no matter, as long as you wanted one.” Keith leaned closer, pressing a kiss on Shiro’s nose, then his mouth.

Before Shiro had the chance to respond in kind, Keith had begun to descend the staircase. There, as expected, was Lance and Hunk, Lance wearing the exact same expression Keith had envisioned.

“There you are, Grandpa.” Lance jabbed while tapping his foot, “I thought you were going to sleep the day away.”

Keith could feel the edges of his mouth turn downwards. “For the last time Lance, by human years I’m just barely in my twenties, I thought I could expect you to do even such a simple calculation.”

Hunk clapped a hand over Lance’s mouth, and the fisherman squealed with indignation. With a sheepish grin the larger man interrupted, “Don’t mind him, he’s just been excited about today.”

“Excited about what…?” Keith asked before he looked at the dining table. There before him was an impressive cake, made by Hunk especially for him.

 _Oh_ , he realized.

“Happy birthday, Keith.” Shiro smiled as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “I suspected you had completely forgot.”

 

**_xi_ **

 

“Shiro…” Keith mumbled, feeling the kisses as they descended down his neck and onto his collarbones, leaving traces of fire in its wake. Shiro only responded with a brief nuzzle against the elf’s cheek, continuing on his quest for more skin, hands gripped around Keith’s waist as he sat on Shiro’s lap.

“This seems like a pretty good use for it, don’t you think?” Shiro said when he stopped to peer at Keith’s face, gentle thumb rubbing his cheek. He could see that Keith was on the verge of pouting, ready to spit back an answer, so Shiro opted to silence the complaint, drawing Keith closer to seal their lips together.

“What are we going to do with a single seater?” Keith had worried a few years ago, confused when they bought a couch and a chair as a set.

There were still things that mystified Shiro about elven culture, their sparse living conditions one of them. “Well, when Lance or Hunk come over, they can sit on it.”

“That’s only sometimes, what about all the time?” The elf had countered, “Maybe we should give it away to someone else that needs it.”

“We’ll have uses for it.” Shiro reassured, “It’ll be nice and cozy, but I think we can make it work.”

He made good on that promise, and so they were piled onto the single seater, Keith’s arms looped around Shiro’s shoulders to maintain balance, gasping as he felt the human’s fingers slowly drift lower to his thighs-

The door to their cottage slammed open, night air streaming in through the entrance. The two of them leapt out of the seat and away from each other, startled at the sight of the tiny figure standing on their porch.

“Gross.” The halfling named Pidge announced her arrival with cheekily. “I come over for dinner and this is what I get.”

It was around Keith’s 135th year when Allura returned from one of her grand adventures, this time without the help of Keith or Shiro, followed closely behind by a bespectacled halfling.

“This is Pidge Gunderson, and from today onwards she will be my apprentice and assistant.”

The halfling soon got along with the rest of the group easily with her snarky banter, and after a few well-placed quips that almost left Lance physically wounded, Keith had decided he quite enjoyed her.

“We- we weren’t expecting you for dinner, Pidge.” Shiro answered her evenly despite her surprising arrival, smoothing his shirt for extra measure.

She dragged one of the dining chairs outwards before methodically placing hardcovers on top of the seat, no care at all about the awkward silence until she had throned herself on her makeshift booster chair with a satisfied huff. “I ran out.”

“Of food? Again?” Keith answered drily, taking a seat at the table himself. “Didn’t Hunk go over to your place the other day to deliver you food?”

“Yeah.” She affirmed nonchalantly, “But before that I had let him know we had something to discuss when it comes to our pet project on crystal properties, and he rushed over and completely forgot about everything else.”

There was only one thing that managed to successfully draw Hunk’s attention from good food and good service at his bakery, and that would have to be the experiments and studies that he and Pidge did in their free time.

“We had a breakthrough, but now I’m hungry.” Her stomach did a well-timed growl.

Keith grabbed the apron and a kitchen knife, tying his hair into a loose bun with a soft smile and sigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll start making dinner. Anything you feel like eating in particular?”

“Nothing really, anything to silence the incessant growling.” Pidge dug into her knapsack, producing several vials of mysteriously florescent green goo and a book with a suspicious aura about it.

“Pidge, I think it would be best if you didn’t perform your experiments at the dining table…” Shiro’s suggestion died in his throat as he realized he was lost to her intense concentration.

He caught Keith’s eye as he diced the carrots swiftly on a cutting board, both sharing resigned grins. While Pidge may be Allura’s assistant, they had taken on the bulk of making sure that the halfling was well fed and healthy. If the White Witch Allura was her teacher, perhaps, in a way that they wouldn’t acknowledge, Keith and Shiro had become her surrogate parents.

Shiro decided he didn’t mind that idea at all, listening to the sounds of Keith preparing dinner as he watched Pidge mix more terrifyingly neon liquids together with a practiced hand.

 

**_xii_ **

 

“Were they always there?” Keith mentioned to Shiro one morning in his 142nd year, while they were lazing in bed, legs tangled in their sheets.

The elf had a thumb at the corner of Shiro’s eye, rubbing as if to smooth the skin. Shiro took the hand and laced it with his own. “You mean the wrinkles?”

Keith faltered, mouth moving before clamping shut once again. Shiro could only chuckle. “It’s a normal thing for humans my age. Don’t worry too much about that.”

And so Keith tried. The box at the bottom of the ocean remained shut.

 

**_xiii_ **

 

On a grey winter morning of Keith’s 150th year, Keith ascended the staircase of their tiny cottage and stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching as Shiro remained asleep in a nest of blankets and down comforters. They were up to Shiro’s chin and he was practically swallowed in it, a habit he had had since he had the luxury of multiple blankets when completing his training.

Keith sat beside his sleeping form, cool hand running across Shiro’s forehead as a gentle bid to greet the morning. The human’s eyes fluttered open, the hand of oak brought up from a sea of sheets to rub at one eye. “Good morning.”

Keith ran a hand through Shiro’s hair in answer, now peppered with greys and whites, something that he also had to learn was a “human thing” a few years prior. The two looked out into the cloudy expanse, Shiro mentioned that it was quite likely to rain today, forecasting was something humans also gained as they aged, he explained.

As they enjoyed a quiet breakfast of eggs from the farm down the path and thick slices of toast from Hunk’s bakery, Keith caught himself glancing over at the chair Shiro had made for Pidge when she came to visit. The chair had longer legs, ladder rungs for the halfling’s easy access. She had made no move to openly thank them, but the glimmer in her eye attested to her love for it.

“Are you worried about them?” Keith heard Shiro ask before crunching down on his slice of bread.

Abashedly Keith tucked a lock of his hair behind a pointed ear. “Worry wouldn’t be the exact word… but it’s the first time in a while that they’ve gone just by themselves, Allura and Pidge.”

Often times Allura traveled the world with the other five in tow. This time the humans and Keith had decided to politely turn down the offer, all citing that this time they had far too many things to take care of at home.

“They’ll be okay.” Shiro reassured, voice low in the way that made Keith easily believe his words. “Even though we were close to them, those two are on a league of their own, so I’m sure whatever they come across, they’ll be able to come back and tell us about it with ease.”

“You’re right.” Keith agreed as he cut into a sunny side up egg, the yolk oozing out in bright golden.

Shiro took a sip tea before letting out a satisfied sigh, one arm slung over the back of his chair. The two of them sat in comfortable silence as Keith finished his breakfast, sopping up the remainder of the yolk with his bread.

“Did you want to go with them?”

Keith only stopped for a moment before he continued to take a bite of his toast. “No. What made you think that?”

“Well,” Shiro stroked his chin in a way that reminded Keith of the Elders. “Lance, Hunk and I have businesses we couldn’t take a break from. You’re so diligent with your shop and stockpiling your inventory, I’m sure I could have sold your goods in your stead.”

“I didn’t want you to though.” He replied simply.  

“Next time.” Shiro gazed at him, his mouth in a serious line. “If you want to go, just tell me.”

Slowly Keith stood, fingers brushing against the worn table as he rounded it, hand resting on Shiro’s chest as he stood behind him. He brought his chin down and rested it on the human’s head, hands now tightening their grip. “I didn’t want to go.”

“Keith-”

“I didn’t want to go anywhere if you couldn’t.” Keith pressed his mouth against Shiro’s forehead as a morning shower began to patter on their roof.

“There’s no point in me going anywhere you aren’t.”

 

**_xiv_ **

 

Sometime in the fall of Keith’s 166th year, the cottage became livelier than he could have ever imagined.

As was natural for “humans at this age,” Shiro, Hunk, and Lance had all slowly released control of their businesses to their finest workers, and so the tiny house at the edge of town, near the evergreens, became a central gathering place.

Pidge had also taken occupancy nearby when she first moved to the city, favoring it for its seclusion. When Lance and Hunk came to visit, they always made sure to let her know as they walked past.

Even Allura made appearances more frequently than ever, always bringing a strange magical bauble here and there when she did.

On that particular fall night, before the wind was truly frigid, the elf and the white witch sat in the living room, Keith tending to his potted plants while Allura took a draw from her elegantly long pipe.

Keith had already ushered Shiro upstairs when he noticed him dozing, the remaining three started down the path to their own homes only a few minutes before. It was unusual to be left completely alone with the enigmatic witch, and even after all these years, she unnerved him.

“Pidge and I are planning another expedition this following spring.” Her elbow perched on the armrest. “We were hoping you would come with us. We’re going to a land far south from here, where the sand is endless.”

“Makes me wonder why you would like me to go with you to a place devoid of catalysts for my abilities.” Keith answered with humor.

Just the way Allura placed herself in the humble single seater had transformed it into an otherworldly throne. She grinned in reply, eyes sparkling. “That’s exactly it, we’re hoping you can find even the smallest signs of life there for us, things that Pidge and I couldn’t see.”

She took at another puff from her pipe, allowing Keith time to form his response. His hands had stopped moving, stopped pruning the branches from his potted plant.

“I’m sorry, I have to decline.” He answered, allowing the words to hang heavy in the air.

Keith began to strip the branches of leaves to dry and use for tea, he watched Allura carefully set down her pipe, hands clasped in a eerily familiar fashion.

“Have you thought about it, Keith?” She finally spoke when he had gathered all the leaves into a basket.

“Thought about what?” He feigned ignorance.

“What you will do after this.”

_This._

It was strange to be able to summarize his experiences so far into such a tiny, purposely vague term. Four letters, too short for his liking.

“No, I haven’t.” He grit his teeth subtlety, with an unrealized clenching of his jaw. “Frankly, I don’t like thinking too far ahead.”

“I’m sure Shiro would like you to.”

He gripped the barren branches in his fist hard enough to hear them groan. If this had been just a few decades prior, if this was maybe anyone else besides Allura, he would have already forced them out. Keith felt his anger just underneath the surface, ready to burst at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t speak for him like that.”

“But you know that I’m probably right.”

There again was a pang of fear, sitting heavy in his stomach, climbing its way up his chest like vines, circling his throat.

“Keith I’m…,” In a rare glimpse of the white witch’s vulnerability, he saw her shoulders slump, voice genuine but remaining clear. “I’m worried for you. We all are.”

“I know.” Keith answered hastily, standing to take the basket to the kitchen. “I know but I-”

He stopped, setting the basket on the table.

“If you don’t mind, it’s late and I think it’s time for me to sleep.”

Allura nodded once wordlessly, moving to gather her things.

Upstairs, in the dark, Shiro slept deeply.

 

**_xv_ **

 

After a particularly bad bought of a cold in early spring of Keith’s 173rd year, even when Keith had drawn out the fever from Shiro in the ways he knew best, the human remained in bed to gather his strength.

On the third week of bed rest, Keith entered their bedroom with a cup of warm tea, Shiro smiling with the same warmth he had radiated when he was only a child. In his hands was a wreath of blue flowers he had been working on, white branches arranged like a crown.

“It’s finished.” He told Keith excitedly. “Would you like to try it on?”

Keith set the cup on an end table and kneeled before the bed, Shiro adjusting his creation to sit balanced on the elf’s head. He gently stroked Keith’s chin to let him know he was done.

“It looks beautiful on you, Keith. Just like always.”

In the bowl of fresh flowers on the end table were just a few remaining stems. Keith turned to pick up the best looking flower, its petals vibrant and turning upward. He tucked it behind Shiro’s ear in a wordless sign of his gratitude.

“Same to you, Shiro.”  

 

**_xvi_ **

 

One morning when Shiro was 82 years old, he held Keith’s hand with his own left one, breath rattling as he sucked the air into his lungs. A persistent cough had begun to wake him in his sleep months prior, and it had developed into a fever that wouldn’t break in recent days.

Keith had been up the entire night, but still he held tightly onto the human’s hand, wrist thinner than he ever imagined or remembered it to be. “Are you feeling better, Shiro?”

Shiro had been surrounded by pillows and blankets, Keith’s chief concern in how Shiro’s back ached in a way that never seemed to leave him. Still he managed to place his warm hand of wood on to Keith’s head and stroked it gently, fingers running through the long black hair. Keith disliked the way that Shiro refused to answer his question, but was also too afraid to press about it.

It was still early, before the sun had fully broken through the clouds. Pidge had promised the night prior to run to town and bring back a pot of Hunk’s warm chicken broth. Keith thought of the halfling then, wondering if he should step out and ask if she could go now rather than later that day. He stood to put on his jacket, yet Shiro’s hand took hold his with a strength reminiscent of his early years.

“Keith.” He rasped out slowly, “Please stay here with me.”

The elf sat back onto the bed, a tense smile on his lips. “Of course, I’m just going out to tell Pidge to go to Lance and Hunk’s-”

“No, Keith,” Shiro coughed, interrupting his sentence. The elf remained quiet, waiting for the next words.

“I think Pidge shouldn’t have to go into town.”

There was a certain finality in his tone that confused him.

“You mean tomorrow then? Honestly she could do well with some exercise for her short little legs, she’s been cooped up either here or in her house for the past-”

“Keith.”

Even then, Shiro managed to be reassuring in the way that made him want to believe in him.

“No.” Keith heard himself say, his voice fraying at the seams.

Shiro shook his head and smiled, the thin crescent of a scar on his nose bunching up in the lines on his face.

“How- how do you know?” His own body felt foreign as he asked. “Don’t tell me it’s another human thing, to somehow _know.”_

“I think… I think it’s a universal thing.” Shiro laughed.

Outside, the usual chatter of the forest had gone silent. To Keith, this was a profound silence that he had never known in his life, the sound he was offered instead was the rapid beating of his heart as it attempted to escape his chest.

“You gave me borrowed time, more than I could ever ask.”

“Not enough.” Keith quickly replied.

“More than enough.”

How obstinate. The sheer audacity of it. Keith thought to himself. That his heart could be shouting so loudly while Shiro’s struggled. Like watching one of Pidge’s wind-up toys when the key neared its last half circle.

_What a terrible insult._

Keith fought down a bubble of laughter and failed, heard himself choke.

“Thank you.” Shiro broke him from his self-loathing, as he always did. “Thank you.”

The elf brought a cold hand to his cheek, held it there when he knew Shiro didn’t have the strength to. He buried his face into his palm and willed himself to breathe deeply.

After a moment of indecision, Keith climbed onto the bed and rested his arm around Shiro’s waist, gradually wrapping his hand around, the slightness of it making the task easy.

He began to murmur to Shiro stories of the past, of when Shiro was a just few decades younger, winters where they hunted in sleeping forests, summers they enjoyed at the bay in the company of their friends, of perilous adventures Allura had managed to drag them onto.

Shiro responded with comments of his own, brief corrections or reminders of other favorite parts. They carried on this way until gradually Shiro became too tired, and Keith continued onward by himself.

Keith told the stories out of order, whichever struck him as he spoke, until Shiro closed his eyes.

Hot tears fell from his own.

 

* * *

 

 

Allura was the first to arrive, when the sun was lowering itself heavily into the horizon, the impact of it bathing the town in red.

Together they buried his body outside near the evergreens. Emptily he told her that he could hear the forest mourn as they would have a fallen friend.

When the trio climbed up the hill the sun had already set. With shaky fingers Pidge lit lanterns for each of them to hold as they looked on at the freshly upturned mound of dirt. Distantly Keith could hear Lance, shocked and angry, disbelieving that of all of them, Shiro was the one to go first.

Keith had nothing left to cry, the ocean inside of him lay dry and cracked. At the bottom he found that the box he had shut and hidden was open all along.

That night when the rest of them had left, Keith found the quiet unbearable and began to walk without aim, until he swallowed by the forest.

 

**_???_ **

 

He sifted the sand between his fingers, the wind howling through him as he watched his entire being entombed by the unforgiving sands of the desert.

Though he had traveled all the way here, Allura was wrong. There was no life that he could find here.

 

**_final_ **

 

Sometime later, on the eve of Keith’s 280th year, he found himself walking along the path to a familiar town.

It wasn’t intentional, he told himself. But maybe, it also occurred to him, he was only able to return because he had finally allowed himself to.

He could barely recognize the city by the bay, much of the buildings of his time gone or replaced, but when he rounded the bend and walked down the dip into the market, he found himself struck with a pang of nostalgia.

He took the path past most of the bustle of a town full of life and up the hill to a place he had once called home. The evergreens greeted him, many unchanged and whispering excitedly at his return. Perhaps he had thought he would have found his cottage in a state of disrepair, nature reclaiming the land as it usually did. Or maybe he thought there would have been a new family, and he would have no hold left on the city all together.

Instead he was greeted by an all too familiar sight. Dark skin and white hair, poised gracefully with a hand perched on his mailbox as if was placed specifically there for her to lean on it.

“So you’ve returned.” Allura said in way of greeting, moving to unlatch the front door.

“How am I not surprised to see you here?” Keith responded as he slid off his worn leather coat. Walking into his old home was surprisingly simple, the inside of cottage as fresh and clean as if he had only left the day before.

She took her favorite spot in the living room, the elf taking his seat on the couch slowly, expecting plumes of dust that never formed.

“Probably because for the last hundred years or so, I’ve been checking up on you.” She hinted wryly, “Or maybe because I’ve been taking care of this place for you in your absence.”

He looked at the plants in their pots, knew that they were not the same ones he had known a century before, but still the similarity discomfited him.

“After the third or fourth time we ran into each other by your words, ‘oh so serendipitously’, I began to realize as much.” He retorted before his voice softened, “But thank you, I had no idea you would have still cared about this old place.”

“We had no idea what to do with it. There was a time we were worried because we had no idea where you had gone. I’m only glad I found you and forced you to keep in touch. I figured if you could at least do that, I would do something in kind.”

We, at that point, Keith knew, meant Pidge and Allura. The last of those he once knew.

“Should we go see Pidge? I’d like to see how she’s shaped up since I was gone.” The elf stood to leave, but Allura held out a hand to stop him. He looked at her as a dread he was now well-accustomed to sprang forth.

“She’s fine.” Allura shook her head as if to dispel his fears. “She’s a tiny, angry, wise-cracking halfling as usual. She might come to outlive me at this point.”

A breath that Keith didn’t realize he was holding was finally exhaled. “So why not go and see her now?”

There were rare moments, moments so scarce that even though Keith had known the white witch for so long, he could count them on one hand, where Allura’s smile truly beamed, and she suddenly looked like a young girl of only sixteen or seventeen.

“There’s someone else I think that would like see you.”

“See me? Who?” It had been a while, but not long enough for him to forget a third person.

Allura didn’t answer, but beckoned with her hands for Keith to follow him out the cottage. They began to make their way into the forest behind the house before the elf realized where they were heading, finding himself startlingly and woefully unprepared.

“Allura I know I’ve come back, but I don’t think- I’m not quite ready for this.” He attempted, but Allura only caught hold of his arm, dragging him bodily with her.

“I’ve been waiting for you to return. But not everyone is as patient as me, I’m sure.” She pushed him forward. “Well, go on.”

It took a moment before his ears readjusted to allow the voices of the trees to be heard. Though he knew these were the evergreens and not the magic imbued birch from his elven home, the choir of cheerful whispers held a wistfully comparable note. Eyes he hadn’t realized he had shut fluttered open, and he was briefly overcome with a sense of disbelief.

There stood before him was an oak tree, strong with a hundred years of life, branches twisting their way up into the sky. The shade underneath tree was dappled with drops of bright sunlight, like welcoming him inwards to an eager embrace.

Keith could hear Allura speak behind him, but he was unable to hear the words, compelled to walk closer to the oak that had sprung from where his body used to lay.

“I can’t believe it.”

As he neared the foot of the tree, he could hear the voice, heartfelt and glowing.

_Welcome back, Keith._

Keith placed a cautious hand against the trunk, found it warm and familiar like lacing fingers before he pressed his head onto the bark, his cheek caressed by a hand he had so sorely missed.

“I’m back, Shiro. I’m finally back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Aprilflame for giving me the inspiration to write this story with her wonderful Tolkien AU, and I'm so incredibly grateful to all of you that have read it. 
> 
> There is a side story that I'd still like to tell about Shiro's years during training, and maybe one day I'll come back again to revisit this idea.


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